The Princess, Cat, Scientist and Vizard Knight
by Siriusgirl1
Summary: The War is over, but the nightmares, regrets and fears continue. Unwilling to trouble her friends further, the Princess condemns herself to live with the pain festering inside her. It's a good thing she discovers an unforseen Knight in masked armour.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

The idea to write something based on these characters has been annoying me for a while, but I didn't want to, out of the fear that a) I wouldn't be able to get the characters right, and b) that it would take my focus off the current 'Bleach' fanfic that I'm writing.

As it turns out, I was distracted from my current fanfic because I was stubbornly disallowing myself from giving in to this urge! So I thought I'd write it and be done with it. Hehe. Of course, it's pure speculation etc. but I just thought it would be interesting if something like this happened, involving Shinji and Orihime. (I think it was all his talk of her being his 'first love' that started the ideas rolling in my head -even if he _was_ only joking. But then again, who knows, huh? It's Hirako Shinji after all)

**Disclaimer: **Kubo Tite; it all belongs to him. You probably wouldn't want to have anything to do with 'Bleach' if it belonged to me.

* * *

**The Princess, the Cat, the Scientist and the Vizard in Masked Armour:**

The end of the war, the 'winter' war as it had been called, -even though it had taken place a while _before _winter-, had not come about without forcing changes in many of those involved in it.

And this girl, with hair the colour of the sunset, was no exception.

The haunted gleam in her eyes seemed to shine so much, like a beacon, that he couldn't quite figure out how none of her friends seemed to notice it.

_Especially_ Ichigo.

But then again, he supposed the brat was too enthralled by the fiery sparks in a certain pair of deep, purple eyes to notice anything else, much less _her_.

Which was funny, given his evident concern for her_ welfare_ and all that jazz.

It had taken a month for his quiet frustration to get the better of him, and for him to approach the vibrant haired girl himself.

(For all their apparent collective 'genius', and desire to see her safe and unharmed, her friends sure were idiots when it came to keeping her emotionally safe, and emotionally unharmed)

He'd seen the fear in her eyes as he started to frequent the school once more, always making sure to be there in the morning before she herself got in, and to greet her with a big wave and a cheery smile.

But he also noticed that the fear seemed to get fainter and fainter with every week that he spent taking great pains to establish a routine with her.

He had known for certain that the fear had become less important to her than what it was before, when she had allowed him to walk her home one particular day, when she had stayed in the school library for so long that it was late in the evening when she left the school premises.

As the weeks had passed, it became a common occurrence for him to walk her home after school. Not every day, of course, because she _did_ have other friends and other things to do.

So did he, for that matter. Even if Lisa and Hiyori said otherwise. Well, _Hiyori_ said otherwise; Lisa just gave him that look of hers that told him he was being an idiot. (What did _she_ know about him anyway? Hmphf.)

Anyway, the weeks had turned into months; months during which he had successfully established several routines with the girl.

And it was these slowly constructed routines that had been threatened when Kisuke told him to stay away from the school. Why? Because the Shinigami liaisons positioned around Karakura were, apparently, getting suspicious of his behaviour.

Of course, he'd argued with the man.

If _Kuchiki Rukia_ –the highest ranked Shinigami 'liaison' in Karakura, from what he knew- wasn't bothered by his continuous appearances, why should _he_ be worried about other small fry?

For all Kisuke's logical explanations, there was only one last minute attempt that had made him change his mind –much to his surprise. And Kisuke's too, although the sly genius hadn't shown it.

He had thought strongly about ignoring Kisuke's warning, but he _really_ didn't want his associating with the vibrant haired girl to make her even more of a dodgy character in the eyes of _certain_ people in Seireitei.

So the old routines were dropped, because, really, what other choice had he had?

But damn, hadn't Kisuke been correct when he'd said that when one door closes, another one opens.

So maybe he didn't arrive in school before she did, to greet her with a smile and a wave.

Instead, he turned up on the route she took to school, just as she turned a corner, or crossed a road, her schoolbag and sometimes a slice of bean paste slathered toast clutched in her hands, as she tentatively returned his smile and wave.

So maybe he didn't hang around after school, bored out of his mind as he waited for her to finish whatever she had to do, so he could walk her home, listening to her ramblings and keeping an eye out for her clumsiness.

Instead, he turned up randomly outside her front door, not giving her a moment to let out a surprised 'Hirako-kun!', before asking her if she was up for a milk shake, or a hot chocolate at the cafe three blocks down, and listening to her ramblings and keeping an eye out for her clumsiness as they walked.

But what they were doing at Kisuke's shop at the moment –that wasn't a part of any routine whatsoever.

He hadn't really thought that someone as innocent (or not _so_ innocent, given what she had witnessed) and naive (or not _so_ naive... damn that Aizen) as she was, would get along so well with Shihouin Yoruichi... but what d'you know? She did.

(Then again, he wouldn't have expected someone as innocent and naive as the princess would get along with someone like _him_ either)

And it just so turned out that, on the days that he had nothing to do (also accurately described as the days he knew Hiyori was in one of her 'moods' and would like nothing better than to kick the snot out of him), he had established his own personal routine of visiting Kisuke. Just for the heck of it. He had a nice, bright room towards the back of the shop, where he could take a nice, comfortable nap without being disturbed.

And if the princess was also there to talk to Yoruichi –or Kisuke, or Tessai-, he made sure to never approach her when he sensed her presence somewhere else in the shop.

As charming as he was, he did think that there was something called _overkill_. Heaven forbid he give her the impression that he was stalking her.

So he masked his presence from her whenever he sensed her presence.

Except for today.

Because from what he sensed of her reiatsu when she entered the shop, she was not in the most cheerful of moods.

In fact, it felt as though she was...frightened. And somewhat...lethargic. Like she was lacking energy -all of that in one package.

He might have chosen to ignore _that_ too, but he hadn't seen the girl for two weeks now. She was busy with end of term exams, and he had been asked by Kisuke to test Ichigo's powers, and his control over them (it seemed that Seireitei was concerned, and Kisuke, rightfully, wanted to test the brat himself, before Seireitei poked their fingers in what wasn't theirs to poke)

So here he was, seated opposite the vibrant haired girl who was yet to meet his gaze, doing a good job of ignoring the spying cat also in the room, as he attempted to figure out if he had done something to deserve this sudden silent treatment.

_She's been quiet for far too long_, he thought, as his tawny eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Say, Orihime-chan, did the blue men do anythin' to upset you today?"

When he heard the snort, he allowed a momentary shift of focus to glare at the smirking cat. _Damn that Yoruichi_. It wasn't like he liked talking about 'blue men'. Or men in general. But he had come to realise that they were important to the girl, and sometimes, were the only way to draw her out of the shell she withdrew into.

Thus he was at a loss as to what he should say when she nodded absently.

"Oh." He paused, wracking his brains. "Well. Send 'em to me, and I'll hand them over to Hiyori. She'll teach them a thing or two." _If she doesn't kill you for believing in something so ridiculous, and then kill me just for the heck of it_, he thought with an inward cringe.

The vibrant haired girl nodded once more, and he suddenly discovered that he was bothered by the fact that she still hadn't _looked_ at him. "Ya wanna tell me what's going on, Orihime-chan?"

"I..."

She trailed off, but still, at least she had said _some_thing. That was always a good start.

"Ya?"

He saw her swallow and found his tawny eyes following the curve of her throat, lingering for a moment on the bit of her collarbones that he could see, poking out from the purple, v-necked sweater that she had on.

Surprisingly, the first thought that entered his mind was not a perverted one.

_Has she been eating well...? _

"I had-" she trailed off, swallowing once more. It was at that moment that he realised he was still staring. At a place that was _definitely_ not her face. "I had a dream."

He took in the paleness of her features, along with the distinct half moons under her eyes. _I didn't know that dreams made ya look like the livin' dead, princess..._

"I saw... I –he...he was in it..." she whispered, and his eyes were now drawn to the way her hands clenched the fabric of her short patterned skirt.

_Oh_, he thought_, _taking in her words and behaviour,_ that certainly narrows it down._

And when he thought about it, it _did_.

There was only one 'he' of whom any dreams had the power to make her behave in such a manner.

There was only one 'he' who, from what he had discerned himself and from what she had told him, still evoked fear in her.

"What did he do?"

She swallowed again.

"He... he asked me to... he wanted me to smile." And when she looked up at him, briefly, he saw the fear mixed together with disgust. He knew that the bastard had actually asked her to smile once. She had told him that it was just before he had announced his plans for Karakura.

_Damn you, Aizen_, he thought darkly, _you still haunt her, even in death_.

"Is that all he said?" he inquired. The girl nodded, before letting out a quiet laugh.

"I...I know. It's silly. I know –I know he can't do anything anymore. He's... he's dead after all..." The grip she still had on the fabric of her skirt told him that despite this knowledge, it still frightened her.

_He _still frightened her.

"People don't need to be alive to scare the shit outta us, ya know," he commented, lightly. "My great aunt's probably been reincarnated a good dozen times by now –but she _still_ scares me silly."

Orihime nodded, although she didn't look very reassured.

_I guess jokes are a 'no' then_. "Have you been thinking of him lately? Or of what happened?" he asked, adopting a more serious tone. Hiyori would have been surprised, if she had been there. It was surprising how many people thought the word 'serious' didn't exist in his vocabulary.

The girl shook her head.

"No," she said, quietly.

"Has anyone said anythin' to make you remember the war, then?"

"N-No..." She spoke up before he could say anything else, "but I..." she took a deep breath. "I was buying some groceries. And I saw... someone. He was tall, and...and had brown hair. And...and I bumped into him by mistake, and when he spoke – his voice was...it was..."

"Like his?"

She nodded.

"Oh."

"It's silly..." repeated Orihime, after a moment or two. "I...I shouldn't let this happen." She attempted a smile, but it seemed more like a grimace to him. "Next thing I know, I'll react like this every time I see someone with brown hair!"

If his thoughtful gaze was making her uncomfortable, she did her best to not show it. "It's just really-"

"It's silly, yeah, I got that the first time, Orihime-chan." There was a pause. "But it's also understandable. And I think you know that just as well as I do. Just 'cause the war's over doesn't mean the memories are just gonna go away like that, ya know." He didn't avert his gaze as she stared at him. "But really, Orihime-chan, you don't have to worry." He cocked his head to a side, "I _seriously_ doubt that you can find anyone hideous enough to resemble _him_. It's...just not possible."

Her eyes widened. "I mean, his hair was always rather...freaky. But that new 'do' of his? That annoyin' little piece of hair that curled right into the middle of his face? I didn't know whether to laugh and attack him, or to scream and run _away _from him when I saw it!"

He shook his head with a heavy sigh. "And I thought that he might have learned somethin' from me, after his time as my fukutaichou. Ya know?"

"H-Hirako-kun! Tha –that's--!"

"Absolutely, one hundred percent true. And ya know it." He shuddered. "I thought turnin' into a bad ass was supposed to make people...well, bad ass. But not with him, no sir-ee. He jus' looked a lot more like the wuss I always knew he was. It's a pity we turned up in the middle of a battle and all. I'd have liked to take some pictures." He sighed. "For future amusement, ya know?"

Orihime gaped at him for a moment, and it wasn't until he saw her lips twitch that he knew that he had succeeded.

"T-That's..." the vibrant haired girl trailed off as she quickly clapped her hands over her mouth, causing a smirk to form on his lips.

"You can laugh, Orihime-chan. It's not like _I'm_ gonna be offended or anythin'..."

But the girl shook her head, even though her shoulders were shaking ever so slightly.

"I..." she lowered her hands a fraction. "That p-piece of hair..." the giggle was quickly held back.

"What about it?"

"It _was_...strange..." There was a pause. "And it tickled too..."

The silence that fell upon them this time was one that went unnoticed to the golden haired Vizard. He was quite content with staring at the girl, glossing over the thoughtful expression on her face that scrunched up every now and then as she fought back a giggle.

_It...tickled...? _He frowned. _What the hell?!_

"Whaddya mean it tickled?" he asked, hoping it came across as nonchalantly as he wished, for his mind was distracting him with the various scenarios during which that...that _friggin_ lock of hair could have _tickled_ her.

It didn't help that all the scenarios were ones that involved the pair's proximity to each other. _Intimate proximity_, for her to feel _tickled_ by the damned thing.

"Eh?" Orihime blinked. "Um...it just...tickled..." she explained, as best as she could. She must have misunderstood the expression on his face –whatever the expression was- because she started waving her hands, frantically. "I –I mean. He was talking to me and –and I –well, I couldn't really move, could I? But then I was shocked out of my fear when I saw that piece of hair...and it...well it tickled. Right here."

She was pointing to her nose, and then to the right side of her face.

_Ai...zen..._he thought with an inward growl.

"Is that so?" he drawled, uncaringly.

The girl nodded.

"Yup! Come to think of it...it was rather...soft," she murmured, her brows furrowing. "I wonder what type of shampoo he used..."

"...Soft...?"

"Yes, soft. I wish I knew what shampoo he used –I can never seem to get _my _hair to--- ah. Um. H-Hirako-kun...what are you doing...?"

"Nothin'. Why'd you ask?"

Orihime fidgeted nervously, not very comfortable with the other man's nearing proximity.

"Uh. Well. You –ah, I mean...Hi...rako-kun...?"

The Vizard's smirk widened as he eyed her obviously flustered behaviour. Lazily crawling the last few steps he needed to take, he came to a halt when he was directly in front of her, and it was only then that he noted the flush that was spreading swiftly across her face and neck.

"Tell me, Orihime-chan," he drawled, "what was the punk doing, to be close enough for you to feel his hair?" Her grey eyes widened. "Better yet, what were _you_ doing? Hmm?"

"I –" she squeaked as he moved his face closer, causing her to instinctively draw her head back. "I was –one of the Espada took me back –that was when he was talking to me, when he –um...when he asked me to smile! H-Hirako-kun, I don't think—"

But he didn't move away from where he was rudely peering into her personal space. Nor did he push himself any further.

"An' that was it? Just that time?"

"J-Just that time, Hirako-kun."

He observed her for a moment longer, before nodding.

"I wouldn't be surprised. The punk never was the type to hit on chicks. I even wondered if he...played for the other side, ya know?" He shook his head sagely. "But if he was, he would've made moves on me, so I guess he was straight..."

He eyed the stunned girl again. "But if he didn't make any kind of move on you, Orihime-chan, I think I'm gonna have to doubt his orientation again. It's not like he would've seen any better -and all in one lovely package too..."

The puzzled expression on the fair face was rather heartening to the Vizard. Where once he might have exasperatedly muttered about her cluelessness in worldly matters...it now served as a source of relief.

For it told him that even if some of her naiveté and innocence had been lost throughout the War, she was still herself. It told him that while she could handle death, war, and guys dressed in black and white fighting with swords and masks on their faces...she was still _pure. _

And _damn _was he being corny or what?

Though, he knew now why people hitting on her never got very far –her apparent cluelessness as to what they were trying to achieve must've politely driven them off.

He smirked. _And all of that without her even knowing she was doing it..._

"Eh?"

He shook his head.

"Nothin' Orihime-chan. No need to worry your pretty little head about it."

She flushed again at the teasing, and quickly looked away. His smirk widening in a manner that would have screamed 'run Orihime-chan, _RUN!_' had she been looking at him, he leaned forward once more. "Say, 'hime-chan..."

"...H-Hai?"

"I was wonderin'..." his nose was almost touching hers –and up close, he silently marvelled at how big and alive and _grey_ her eyes were, "if you we—" The shifting of the air around them was all the warning he got, before something was, literally, lodged in his face.

His first thought was 'Hiyori', but it soon changed when he felt the sharp, razor like claws.

The last he checked, Hiyori only used her feet and hands to try and end his exist on a daily basis. She _sure as hell_ didn't have claws.

Unable to help himself, he screamed. Like a little girl, to his later shame.

Throwing himself backward, his hands fumbled with the lump of _whatever it was_ that clung to his face, digging the claws in deeper. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, _owowowowow_ geddit _off_! Geddit _off_-!"

"Hirako-kun! Y-Yoruichi-san!"

Ah, so the lump was a _cat_. Not just any cat, but a flippin', spying, _demon_ cat.

"Ger_roff_ me _yer _furball! I'm not cat food!" He yelped. _"OWWWW!!! KI-KISUKE!!! GET YER DAMNED PET OFF MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!_"

On hindsight, he probably shouldn't have said that, for, as it turned out, that only angered the 'pet' even more.

"Yoruichi-san, please, stop it. I think you're hurting him..." pleaded Orihime, looking pleadingly at the back of the noble-turned-cat's head. "Yoruichi-san, please. You _are_ hurting him..."

It was with a hiss that the beast retracted its claws before leaping off the Vizard's face, nestling itself in the willing arms of the human girl instead.

"My _face_," moaned the Vizard, tentatively brushing his fingertips over the mass of cuts on it. "The hell did I do to deserve that, ya piece of shit—"

"-Ah, Hirako-kun, maybe you shouldn't say that," cut in Orihime hurriedly, as she felt Yoruichi tensing in her arms. The Vizard stared at her for a while, before he eventually looked away with a sigh. "Are you alright, Hirako-kun? Do you need me to take a look at your face? I can heal it, if you want..."

He shook his head, looking back at her with the familiar smirk on his lips.

"Naw, don't worry about it, Orihime-chan. I heal pretty quickly. Nothin' to worry about."

"But-"

"Don't waste your concern on him, Orihime. He's not worth it," added Yoruichi, baring her teeth at him as he glared at her.

"So says the demon cat..."

"Do you want _more_ cuts on that ugly mug of yours?"

"No thank you. Geez, there's no need to be so jealous of my natural beauty, Yoruichi..."

"Natural beauty? Is that the term they use these days?"

"What's that—"

"-Um...I'm sorry to interrupt..." Yoruichi and the Vizard both turned to look at the girl who seemed a bit uncomfortable under the weight of her stares. "But it's getting a bit late..."

The Vizard blinked.

"Eh? I'm pretty sure that it's not even late afternoon yet, Orihime-chan..."

"Oh! Um, I –"

"-Or could it possibly be that my Orihime-chan wants to remove herself from my presence? It can't be! Do you dislike my presence?" His eyes were wide as he kept the grin off his face when he saw her horrified expression.

"Oh, no! T-That's not it at _all_, Hirako-kun," she said, vehemently, "I –I just...I mean, you're a nice person, and..." she trailed off, biting on her lower lip as she felt the weight of Yoruichi's gaze on her.

"Hmm?" drawled the golden haired male.

The sudden wave of heat that washed over him as he followed the movement of her teeth was, he decided, a fault of the weather. It _was_ unusually warm for this time of the year. Or maybe it was the lack of ventilation in the damned room.

"I just need to do some more studying, that's all..." explained the girl. "I have two class tests tomorrow, and I really want to do well in them."

Yoruichi nodded in her cat form.

"Understandable," she mused. "Although I don't think you need to worry so much. You're smart, Orihime."

"T-Thank you, Yoruichi-san!"

Pouting slightly as the attention was taken away from him, the lone male in the room spoke up.

"What are the tests on, Orihime-chan?"

"Two of the science subjects. Chemistry and Biology," replied the girl.

Yoruichi turned her head to glare at the Vizard, almost immediately knowing what to expect.

She wasn't disappointed.

"_Ohhh_." His smirk widened. "You need any help with 'em, Orihime-chan? I'd like to think I'm rather good at biology... and I could help you understand a bit more about chemistry..."

"Eh...?" Judging from the threatening hisses that left Yoruichi's lips, Orihime guessed that the Vizard had said something that she had missed –something that had angered her friend. "Thank you very much for the offer, Hirako-kun, but I'll be fine. They're two of my best subjects after all!" she exclaimed, pumping one fist into the air.

The Vizard just grinned. _Clueless indeed_, he thought, the sharp, usually always leering eyes softening as he gazed at her for half a moment longer. _Ya really _are _somethin' else, princess._

"That's _very_ interestin' Orihime-chan..." he drawled after a moment of silence, raising his eyebrows at The Look the amber eyed cat sent him. Ignoring the thing, however, he effortlessly pulled himself to his feet, startling the vibrant haired girl. "What're you waitin' for, then? Let's get you back home. You'll get more work done if you go now..."

"Oh. Yes," agreed the girl with a nod, as she moved to put Yoruichi down. "It was nice talking to you, Yoruichi-san. And you, Hirako-kun." She smiled up at the Vizard. "And...thank you, Hirako-kun. For...listening."

He shrugged.

"You know I'd never say 'no' to you, Orihime-chan," he teased, enjoying the faint blush that dusted her cheeks as he grinned down at her.

He wondered absently if she knew that he could see down her v-necked sweater.

Probably not.

Not that he was lookin' or anythin'...because tha' would be _very_ ungentlemanly...

Wait, was that peach _lace_ that he could see under her sweater?

He thrust his hand out in offering, keeping his gaze averted as the healer used the offered limb to pull herself to her feet.

While he liked a good view as much as any other male did, it jus' didn't feel _right_.

Not with _this_ girl.

"I'll walk ya home," he muttered, as he turned on his heel.

"Eh? Oh, no! There's no need—"

"Time's a-wasting, Orihime-chaaaaaaan..."

Staring at his back for a moment, she hurriedly gathered up her bag and hurried after him, Yoruichi at her heels.

As they made it outside, they saw Urahara himself, seated at the entrance. A warm smile appeared on his face as he saw her.

"Going home?" he inquired. She nodded, returning his smile. "Would you like someone to go with you?"

Orihime shook her head, half heartedly wondering how long it would take the shopkeeper to realise that he _wasn't_ responsible for what had happened, simply because he had told her that she wouldn't be of any use in the war. It had been the truth after all, hadn't it?

"Thank you," she said, sincerely, "But Hirako-kun said he'll walk me home..."

The shopkeeper frowned slightly at that, as he glanced briefly at the Vizard, who in return fixed him with a steely look.

"I see." There was a pause. "The new Shinigami are out and about. On patrol..."

Orihime wondered if it was just her, or if her Vizard friend had tensed at that. Turning to look at him, however, she couldn't spot anything to show any hint of displeasure.

"Hirako-kun...?" she queried, finally.

He stared at the shopkeeper for what seemed to be a long while, before shrugging.

"Sorry, Orihime-chan," he said with a grin as he turned to her, "I won't be able to walk you home after all. I jus' remembered that I promised Hiyori I'd see her... And you know how she gets if she's kept waitin'..."

Although slightly confused, the vibrant haired girl nodded with a smile.

"It's fine, Hirako-kun. Really. It's not like anything's going to happ—" She stopped, eyes widening as he moved forward, slapping his hand over her mouth. Urahara and Yoruichi stared at him too, but he ignored them.

"Not that I believe in it or anythin'," he explained, "but it's best not to tempt fate, ya know?"

Orihime blinked for a moment, before nodding. "Good. So. You should get goin'. Your books await you..." Lowering his hand, he nodded to Urahara and sent a glare at Yoruichi. "See ya' around. And Orihime-chan, _do _remember to lock your front door once you're inside," he drawled, turning on his heel before disappearing.

The vibrant haired girl stared bemusedly at the spot he had been standing in, before she shook her head ever so slightly.

"Well, Urahara-san, Yoruichi-san, I really should get going too," she said, giving them both low bows. "I'll drop by some time later, if I can..." With a last smile, she too turned on her heel and headed down the road.

The two Shinigami stared after her, the sound of her humming getting fainter and fainter, until it disappeared altogether when she turned the corner.

"That was interesting," said Urahara, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes as he leaned his head back against the wall.

Yoruichi snorted as she padded her way towards him.

"To say the least." She lay herself down beside him. "He seems to be good at assuaging her fears."

"Oh?" the scientist was curious. "I suppose she must not be discussing her fears with her friends, then..."

"I don't blame her for that. Besides, they're busy dealing with everything that happened themselves," reasoned Yoruichi, flicking her tail lazily. Her amber eyes softened. "And if Ichigo and Kuchiki Rukia are heading towards what I _think_ they're heading towards..." She shook her head. "I don't think she'll ever be comfortable discussing her fears with them."

Urahara nodded.

"But who knows, Yoruichi-san? I still believe that Kurosaki Ichigo has strong feelings for Inoue-chan. Even if he doesn't quite realise it yet."

"There's a difference between believing based on fact, or believing based on the _hope_ of it turning out to be true."

"But...but they're _perfect_ for each other," protested Urahara with a pout. "Everyone thinks so!"

"I never took you for the romantic type, Kisuke," commented Yoruichi, sounding amused as she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "In any case, there'll soon be a third party to that equation, I think." She sensed her friend's gaze on her. "I don't think _he_ will be able to keep deceiving himself..."

She snorted again. "Who'd have thought that _this_ would happen? To Hirako Shinji, of all people?"

"I did," said Urahara, quietly. "It's been a long time coming, anyway. Perhaps not with Inoue Orihime-chan...but...with _someone_. I don't think his life's goal was to keep living forever, dealing with Hiyori-chan's violent ways..."

The cat shrugged.

"But he should bear in mind that she's human. And he's..._not_."

There was a disapproving expression on her friend's face that caught her off guard.

"I think he knows that, Yoruichi-san," he said quietly. "I believe that is why he hasn't done anything yet."

"Yet being the keyword."

There was a moment's pause.

"So if something _does _happen...requited, of course, you will speak against it?" questioned the shopkeeper. His friend was quiet for a moment before she shook her head.

"What I want is that girl's happiness -perhaps more than the girl herself," she muttered. "As long as she's happy with it, I'll be happy."

Urahara nodded.

"Besides, who knows what will happen?" he mused, sagely. "I think that love is the farthest thing from their minds at this point in time. The after effects of war can do that to people..."

"Hnn."

* * *

**A/N**

It was rather long for just a one-shot, I know. But as usual, I have problems with the length of my writing. I hope this was easy to read. The first bit just had a lot of description and very little dialogue because I wanted to set the scene, and really didn't want the descriptions to get in the way of the dialogue if I chose to incorporate them into the story at a later point.

And I'm a bit worried about how I portrayed Shinji's character. When we were first introduced to him, I didn't really like him very much. I didn't hate him, but I didn't particularly like him very much either. But what do you know, I gradually started to like him more and more, to the point where I was itching to write something, anything, about him, but didn't because I was afraid I would get his character right. So it's a bit of a relief to _finally_ think that I've got his character as right as I possibly could...even if that's not much!

Anyways, hope you enjoyed this! Even if it did sort of involve an odd mix of characters.

Keep smiling!

Siriusgirl1


	2. Fitting the Pieces Back Together

**A/N**

Once again, I have no idea where this one came from; it just did. I had a MS Word document opened up, hoping to just...I don't know, type _something_ out...and lo and behold, it turned out to be something _Bleach_ related –and not only that, but related to this story! Hehe.

I've mentioned this again in the Author's Note at the end of the chapter, but this might be the last update for this story for a short while. Not because I've lost interest in it or anything, but because I want to advance my other _Bleach_ story further –it was, after all, the story that I started first. Before Shinji came and disturbed me.

Anyways, here's the next instalment.

**Disclaimer: **It all belongs to Kubo Tite.

* * *

**Fitting the Pieces Back Together**:

Matsumoto Rangiku was not an idiot. Her drinking habits and general lack of interest in her work might have attempted to prove otherwise, but fact was that she wasn't an idiot. _Especially_ not when it came to matters concerning the welfare of those she loved.

Even more so when this so had to do with a certain usually bubbly, highly imaginative, vibrant haired girl who was her little sister in all but blood. (And other things too, seeing how she was a Shinigami and the younger girl was...well, a human)

Which was why she was wondering about the girl's strange, almost glum behaviour.

It wasn't often that Seireitei allowed any of its Shinigami –the ones _not_ a part of the Shinigami liaisons currently deployed in Karakura- to enter the living world, not unless there was some kind of large scale emergency (which might or might not be a direct consequence of some Seireitei action or the other, as past events tended to bring to light more and more).

Despite this, however, she could easily tell that her younger friend had changed. Of course, she wasn't surprised at the realisation; the girl had been in close quarters with their collective enemy, had witnessed her friends battle almost to the death for her safety... well, she could go on and on detailing everything she had been through, but it would be a waste of time.

She had been involved in a _war_, for crying out loud –of course she was going to emerge out of it scathed to some degree or the other.

Even though she knew that there were probably a lot of things on the girl's mind –things concerning everything that had taken place- she knew well enough about unpleasant memories to know not to push her into saying anything. That kind of pressure only tended to make things worse.

If their 'Orihime-chan' wanted to speak about what had happened, she would initiate the conversation herself. Anything other than that would, possibly, be detrimental to her overall recovery.

This was the well-endowed fukutaichou's fourth visit to Karakura since the conclusion of the winter war, some months ago, and she was surprised to notice that her dear friend seemed to be worse off than what she had been when she'd visited earlier.

Well, no...she didn't exactly seem _worse off_... She just –well, she just looked distracted.

And lonely.

Inoue Orihime looked like she was... like she was well and truly _alone_.

And it cut her very deeply to realise this, as well as to recognise that the light that shone in her grey eyes was one of loneliness.

"Sorry, Rangiku-san!" exclaimed the vibrant haired girl, as she dabbed at the low table before her, trying to get the napkins to soak up as much of the coffee as was possible. "I really didn't mean to spill –ah, it didn't spill on your shirt. Thank goodness!"

Matsumoto shook her head, forcing a smile on her lips.

"It's fine, Orihime," she said, sending the girl a pointed look when her brows furrowed. "_Really_," she added, before stilling the girl's hand and prying the soggy paper napkins from underneath her fingers. "I'll clean this up; why don't you go and make another batch of coffee, hmm?"

The vibrant haired girl looked despondent as she stared at the stained table. "Orihime?"

She gave a start, before an uneasy smile formed on her lips.

"Sorry, Rangiku-san," she said, as she pulled herself to her feet. "I... I'll go and make some –" She paused. "Oh. That was the last bit of instant coffee that I had..."

The older woman shrugged.

"Do you have tea instead?"

"Yes..."

"Then why don't you make us some tea? If it's alright?"

The girl nodded quickly, turning on her heel as she headed towards the kitchen not too far away. She didn't notice her friend's gaze on her until she disappeared into the kitchen.

"What type would you like, Rangiku-san? I've got honey and ginger tea...um, raspberry tea... green tea... English breakfast—"

"Green tea's fine, Orihime. Don't trouble yourself too much," called the Shinigami, turning her attention back to the table and the soggy napkins she held in her hand.

Something was _definitely_ wrong with the girl.

And it pained Matsumoto Rangiku to know that she was keeping it to herself. "How has school been?" she asked, not particularly liking the silence that had fallen in the small apartment.

She heard the familiar whistle of the kettle, along with a few other sounds that indicated her friend's bustling around the kitchen.

"It's alright," called the younger girl after a moment, shutting off the kitchen faucet as she spoke. "We've been having a lot of class tests lately...and a lot of assessments too."

Matsumoto nodded absently.

"Are you doing well with it all?" she asked, although she didn't ask the full question that she had intended to ask. Orihime _had_ been away from school for quite a while after all, during the war –and she couldn't help but wonder if it had affected her work at all.

"Well, my end of term ranking slipped down to seventeenth place..." The 10th Division fukutaichou's head snapped up at the remark, just as the schoolgirl reappeared in the living room, a tray of tea in her hands this time. "Let's hope I don't spill this too, huh?" she asked, a wan smile on her lips.

"Seventeenth place?" echoed Matsumoto, hand darting out to steady one of the mugs of tea as it teetered off balance. "That's..." she trailed off, unsure as to what she should say. '_That's not good_'? or '_I'm so sorry...'_? Somehow, none of them seemed appropriate.

Taking a seat opposite the busty, long haired Shinigami, Orihime allowed a small smile to grace her lips as she folded her legs beneath her.

"It's alright, Rangiku-san," she reassured her older friend. "It's not too bad. I –the teachers understood that I...I had a family emergency."

_A family emergency?_ Matsumoto's clear blue eyes narrowed. _I _wish_ it had been a 'family emergency.'_

"Oh." There was a moment of silence as the older woman took a sip of her tea, wincing slightly at its more-bitter-than-usual taste.

Unfortunately for her, her companion picked up her reaction.

"Oh no...is it...too strong, Rangiku-san?"

"Not at all, not at all," said the Shinigami, waving a hand casually. "It's just...hot. But that's to be expected, since you just made it..." But the other girl didn't look convinced.

"Are you sure? I could make you another-"

"How're your –how's Arisawa?" queried Matsumoto, interrupting the girl. Truth be told, the tea _was_ bitter –too bitter to her liking, but she wasn't about to have her friend get up and prepare another mug for her.

Although she couldn't help but wonder if the bitterness of the tea was an...unplanned indication of the bitterness the girl was feeling within her.

_This is just wrong_, she thought, allowing the hand that rested on her lap –and thus shielded from view under the table- to clench into a fist. _Inoue Orihime is... she's not _meant_ to be bitter. And whatever _makes_ her bitter must be the vilest, cruellest—_

"Tatsuki-chan's good. She's been taking part in a lot of tournaments lately. I think...this is the tournament season, anyway..." There was a pause and the blue eyed Shinigami watched as her companion stared at her mug of tea.

"And everyone else?" she pressed, dreading the silence that had almost fallen upon them. That was another thing that bothered her. When, _when_ had these silences fallen upon them before? Before the war? Before—

_Thinking about the past won't change the present, Rangiku_, she sternly told herself, giving her head a light shake.

"They're good too. Everyone's good. They're enjoying school, and doing well too." There was a soft laugh, although Matsumoto would have preferred the silence to the laugh, for what was once a tinkling, joyful sound was now somewhat...hollow. "They're lucky, aren't they...?"

She shot the girl a sharp look, not quite sure what to make of the almost wistful note she heard in her voice.

"I suppose..." she murmured, taking a large sip of her too bitter tea and forcing herself not to cringe this time. "And...and the others?" She inwardly prayed that her friend wouldn't need further clarification. She _truly_ didn't want to have to mention names. Not that she saw anything wrong with it, but...but she just didn't want to take a chance.

Just in case.

But from what she could see of her friend's large grey eyes –eyes that had once been, and that still were eyes to her very soul, as clichéd as that sounded- she understood who she was referring to.

"They're alright too," said Orihime quietly, her eyes lowering to her lap. "Although...although sometimes... ..." she trailed off, and even though Matsumoto stared at her, desperately wanting to know what she had been trying to say, she didn't push her.

That was the last thing her companion needed at this point in time after all.

Instead, she looked around the apartment, quickly taking in all that she could see; from the entrance to the kitchen, the living area, the TV set and coffee table, the chairs...the entrance to the main bedroom...

She didn't know if she was imagining it, or if there really _was_ a sense of hollowness resonating across the apartment. A sense of loneliness too.

_Oh Orihime..._

But Matsumoto Rangiku was strong, and she was _not_ going to let the tears pool in her eyes. No, not in front of her dear friend. She shouldn't have to worry about the condition of others, and she knew that, being the selfless creature she was, Orihime would immediately seek to comfort her, as opposed to having herself comforted.

"So," she said, a false note of cheer in her voice. "What have you been doing? Apart from going to school and back?" She looked around the room again. "Done anything interesting?"

The vibrant haired girl stared at her for a moment before she averted her gaze once more.

"I've been too busy with schoolwork to do anything else," she finally answered, softly. "Although being in seventeenth place isn't too bad...well, I'd like to try and get higher up than that, so...I've just been working really hard..."

"Oh." There was a pause. "Do you study by yourself or do you-"

"-By myself," cut in the girl. "It's...easier to concentrate that way." She must have seen the sorrowful expression on the older woman's face for, the next instant, she was attempting to convince her that there was nothing wrong with it. "It's not bad, really, Rangiku-san. It's..." her eyes took on a shadowed light, "I'm used to the silence. So it's okay."

_No_, thought Matsumoto, her heart breaking just a little bit more as she refused to allow her mind to think of how her friend must have been treated during her stay in Hueco Mundo, _no it's _not_ okay, Orihime. It's far from it...but... there's not much that I can...do about it, is there...?_

The vibrant haired girl attempted another smile. "Rangiku-san, please don't worry about me. I'm alright. Really, I'm alright."

Even though the busty woman nodded, she was far from convinced.

If she really was alright, the name 'Kurosaki-kun' would have popped up in the conversation a few times already. Followed by a soft glint of absolute adoration that would suddenly appear in her large grey eyes...and finally, a soft, pink flush dusting her cheeks.

And as none of those three things had happened yet, it told her only one thing; her young companion wasn't getting along well with her friends.

No, that was wrong. It wasn't that she wasn't getting along with them –it was more the fact that she was isolating herself from them. Probably due to some foolish yet selfless desire to keep them from worrying about her, and thus acting as though she was as fine as she could be...when she clearly _wasn't_.

And she knew from experience that that wasn't even remotely healthy.

"I just—"

The loud ringing jostled her out of her thoughts, and it took her a moment to realise that it was the sound of a phone ringing somewhere. Rather, it was the sound of _Orihime's_ phone ringing.

Glancing at the girl, she saw that she was just as startled as she was, as she turned her gaze to the stand that held the phone set, a little way to the side from where they were currently seated.

Seeing the younger girl making no attempt to answer the phone, Matsumoto raised an eyebrow at her. "Aren't you going to-?"

Orihime shook her head, even though she shot the phone a wary glance.

"It can't be anything important," she said, slowly, once again attempting a smile that really didn't suit her face –especially when the older woman was used to the girl's more genuine, heartfelt smiles.

"Are you sure?" pressed the Shinigami, somewhat sceptically. "You can never be-"

"-I'm sure, Rangiku-san," cut in the younger girl once again. She was looking at her untouched mug of tea again. "Besides, it's rude to just ignore guests for the phone..."

The well-endowed Shinigami raised both her eyebrows at her friend.

"Rude?" She sounded surprised. "Orihime, surely you've seen things worse than _that_ happening?"

She cringed the moment the words left her mouth. That was _definitely_ _not_ how she had wanted to phrase what she had wanted to say. And as she observed her friend's face keenly for any sign of discomfort, she realised she was even more worried to find none.

"It is rude, Rangiku-san," replied Orihime, quietly. "What if it's someone who just won't let me go?" She shook her head. "And you...you only have a little while left here, until you need to go back..." There was a flicker of _some_thing in the girl's eyes as she said that, but Matsumoto couldn't quite discern what it was. "In any case, whoever's calling can leave me a message. And I'll get back to them later."

She attempted another one of those meaningless smiles. "_Don't _worry about it, Rangi—" A small beep from the vicinity of the phone cut her off as two sets of eyes turned to stare at it.

Matsumoto was only able to catch a glimpse of the blinking red light on what she recognised as the girl's answering machine, before a voice filled the room.

"_Yo, Orihime-chan! The fact that this is goin' to your answerin' machine means that you're either not at home, or...well, you're involved in some top secret activity that involves blue men and the –what was it again? The...Puddin' kingdom...? Meh, I can't remember. Not like it's important anyway. Right-io. Well, anyways, I was just callin' to see how you're doin'. It's been a while, ya know?"_

Clear blue eyes glanced sideways at the vibrant haired girl as the lilting, distinctly male voice drifted around the room.

"_I do apologise for tha', but...ya see, I've been a bit busy these days. An' between you an' me, the company I keep can be quite annoyin'. But...hopefully, I won't have to be in his –in their presence for too long!—"_

If her eyes weren't deceiving her, Matsumoto was almost certain that there a flash of something in her friend's eyes. Something that was easily decipherable as pleasant surprise.

And from the vibrant haired girl's posture, she could tell that she was listening to every word of the voice message being left for her.

But...that voice...

"_-How've ya been, Orihime-chan? D'ya miss me?"_ there was a soft chuckle from the male, _"Now, now, there's no need to deny it; I know ya miss me. Heck, I'd miss me too if I were ya. But then again, I guess I'm not, so—"_

The Shinigami's attention was drawn from observing her friend and back to the answering machine when a rather loud, and _very_ distinct _'thwap!'_ filled the room.

What the-?

"_Owowow –dammit! The hell was that for?!"_

"_Shut up, hage Shinji!"_

The second loud voice definitely belonged to a female, and even though it too sounded familiar to the busty Shinigami, her eyes were drawn once more to her friend, who, despite the wince that escaped her at the sound of what was unmistakeably a...hit of some sort, there was a faint tinge of –

Wait.

Was that...amusement...?

"_I'm leavin' a message, idiot! How can I 'shut up' and do that at the same time? I—" _The '_thwack'_ that reached their ears this time sounded more painful –especially judging from the level of the male's yelps. _"You little piece of—why don't you find someone else to—"_

"_You've been up here long enough! We've got work to do in case you've forgotten! He's had enough rest for the day –just hurry up and get on with the training program already!"_

From the looks of things, it seemed to Matsumoto that it would be an absolute pity to let her friend miss this call –as the girl had seemed intent on doing.

Especially when this...voice message had caused the first positive change in her friend's mood, no matter how miniscule it was.

"_Ehhhh? I don't wanna! I've been trainin' all day –I'm sick an' tired of seein' his pathetic fa—" _Another '_thump'_ reached their ears.

"_Too bad! We're all dealing with it, so stop complaining! Hey –who're you calling anyway? Huh?"_

" –_None of your business, shorty! So just –yeoooouchh!! Are you _tryin'_ ter get me killed, Hiyori?!"_

Pushing aside the flicker of concern that sprung to life within her as she placed the names to the voices, the blue eyed Shinigami reached across the table to catch her friend's attention.

"Go on," she said, nodding towards the phone. The girl stared at her for a moment. "You should take that call."

"Oh, but-"

Matsumoto sent the younger girl a stern look.

"I'll still be here for a couple more hours –a couple of minutes on the phone isn't going to hurt either one of us," she said. _On the contrary, it might do you some good, Orihime_. "So go on. I don't mind."

Orihime glanced at the answering machine, an uncertain expression on her face.

"Rangiku-san, are you—"

"_Yes_, I'm sure," cut in the Shinigami, looking pointedly at the phone. "You'd best be quick, or they'll run out of message time. Or they might hang up."

The vibrant haired girl only paused for half a moment longer, before she pulled herself to her feet and somewhat clumsily dashed towards the stand that held the phone.

"Hirako-kun?" she spoke into the handset, somewhat tentatively. Unaware of her friend's discreet gaze, the corners of Orihime's lips tugged upward. "I'm fine, Hirako-kun." There was a pause. "No, nothing like that –eh? But I –H-Hirako-kun! _No_! I –I..."

The embarrassment in the younger girl's voice was quite clear to the person she was speaking to as well as to Matsumoto; and as she snuck a glance at the girl's face, she saw the faint flush beginning to spread across her cheeks.

Her clear blue eyes widened ever so slightly.

" –Are you alright, Hirako-kun? That...that sounded...like it hurt. I think –ah –um...hello? Hel— Hiyori-chan...? Oh. Um, no. No, I wasn't expecting anyone else, I just –oh! I didn't mean –I mean, I wasn't... I didn't –" As Orihime held the phone a reasonable distance away from her ear, Matsumoto was able to make out the faint echo of raised voices, causing her to roll her eyes despite herself.

Sheesh, what were they trying to do, deafen the poor girl?

The flustered expression on the vibrant haired girl's face disappeared quickly. " –Sorry, Hirako-kun. I didn't mean to – _ehhh?!_" The flustered expression was back, Matsumoto noticed, in full force.

Along with a healthy flush in her cheeks. "N-No I don't remember saying anything like that. I –I... the tests? What-? Ah! _Those_ tests!" Orihime nodded vehemently, not seeming to realise that the person on the other end of the phone couldn't see her. "They weren't too bad. I sort of expected them to be difficult, given what I've missed, but they – um, well, I... it was seventy seven per cent for Biology, and eighty three for Chemistry."

The 10th Division's fukutaichou abandoned all pretence of inconspicuously observing her friend.

She was _far_ more interested in the varying forms of animation in the younger girl's voice as she spoke.

Varying forms of animation that hadn't been present in her voice earlier.

"Oh no, I've got a few more tests coming up. Yes. Yes, that's what I try and do every day. Besides, these will be more difficult than the earlier ones, I think... mm-hmm." Orihime nodded. "But I –hmm?"

There was a short pause as she listened to what was being said. "Milkshake? But...isn't it a bit too cold for milkshakes? Oh, but if that's what you want to have, Hirako-kun, it's fine, I – hot chocolate sounds good. Mm-hmm. Um, today's not a good –oh, right. Well... I've got a club meeting tomorrow, and...and I was planning on heading to the library to do a bit of – Friday? Ehh...I don't think I've got... nope, Friday's good, Hirako-kun. Yes. Oh, okay, but what about – H-Hirako-kun! That's...t-that's --!"

It was safe to say that the one phone call had elicited from the young girl much of the positive emotion she had been looking for, and attempting to bring back up to the surface.

It both surprised and amazed her that _that_ person was the cause of this change.

She most certainly hadn't expected that. Not one bit. Heck, she had thought that the passionate (sometimes foolishly so) substitute Shinigami would've pulled his head out of his rear end by now and tried to do for her what she had done for all their friends without them knowing it.

But evidently...his head was still where it was not supposed to be.

" –Yup, Rangiku-san." Matsumoto's attention was snagged once again at the mention of her name. "Oh no, she's not staying. She'll be going back in a bit. Yes, it _is_ nice. I –oh, of course, Hirako-kun. I-I will keep that in mind. No, I won't forget about Friday. _Hirako-kun_-! ...O-Okay. Thank you for calling, it...it was...I...I mean, I guess, it's – don't tease, Hirako-kun! Oh –sorry. Yes, I will. No, I won't forget. I'll make sure to lock it. And –yes, I'll lock the windows too. You take care too, Hirako-kun... Bye."

Silence fell upon them once more as Orihime put the phone back down, fiddling absently with some of the buttons on the answering machine.

Matsumoto was almost willing to believe that the girl had forgotten her presence in the apartment with her, and that was confirmed as she turned around, a smile on her lips.

A smile –a _true_, albeit small, smile.

It may not be the blinding smiles that she –and everyone else who knew the girl- were used to witnessing, but it was still a _smile_...and one that most certainly _wasn't_ forced. Not one bit.

She was only half listening to the girl as she let out a quickly muffled gasp upon seeing her.

"R-Rangiku-san!" She looked mildly horrified with herself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Silly Orihime," commented the Shinigami, smiling at her. "You haven't done anything to apologise for." As the girl made her way back to the table, settling herself down before it, she spoke up. "So..." she started. "That sure sounded like an interesting phone call..."

The human with god-like powers nodded, a faint light momentarily edging out the dull light of loneliness that had been present before –although the loneliness was quick to return.

"It was," she said, as the Shinigami wondered if she even knew about the faint, almost...fond smile on her face. "Conversations with Hirako-kun are never boring. Whether they're in person or...well, over the phone."

Matsumoto nodded, biting down the rush of questions that she suddenly wanted to ask her friend. Some of them hardly seemed appropriate –at least, not at this point in time.

"That's good to know," she murmured distractedly. "He seemed rather busy though, didn't he?"

Orihime nodded, fingering the rim of her mug of tea.

"That happens sometimes. He...disappears for a while." She didn't seem too bothered by the fact. "But if he's gone for a while, he does call. Not all the time, but...sometimes..."

Well, that explained why she wasn't too bothered.

But what bothered Matsumoto was...everything put together. It wasn't that it was bad in any way –heck, whatever the hell the man and his friends were doing, it brought some life into Orihime's eyes; that could never, _ever_ be bad.

No, it wasn't _bad_.

It was just...strange. Or...odd, even. It was definitely unexpected.

"Are you... What were you talking about doing on Friday?" she questioned, halting her thoughts enough to wonder if the question was one she shouldn't have asked.

But Orihime merely smiled.

"We're going for hot chocolate," she said, simply. "We...do that sometimes. Hirako-kun...turns up at my door, randomly, and we go have a hot chocolate. Or a milkshake, depending on the weather..." She trailed off after that, and Matsumoto didn't press her.

"That sounds nice," she said with a smile of her own. And it _did_. Because it seemed to her that he was putting in a bit of effort to see to it that this precious girl didn't selflessly isolate herself more than she would be able to handle on her own.

But what did surprise her above all else, was the...familiar note in her voice as she spoke of him. Well, it wasn't _as_ familiar as the note she was thinking of...but it certainly held a degree of...camaraderie. Of –dare she say it- _fondness_.

"It is," said Orihime, before she raised her thus far untouched mug of tea to her lips. The choked splutter that escaped her lips snapped Matsumoto out of her thoughts, as she looked worriedly at her friend.

"Orihime? What are you –what happened?"

The vibrant haired girl coughed into her hand, using her free hand to rub her throat. When she looked at the Shinigami seated opposite her, there was a horrified look on her face once more.

"R-Rangiku-san, the tea is _horrible_," she gasped, her eyes wide. "It's too bitter! _Much_ too bitter. Why didn't you _tell_ me? Oh dear...and you've drunk most of it too-!"

As she watched the comparatively muted yet still somewhat typical reactions from the girl, something flared inside the Shinigami; something that had been distinctly missing throughout the earlier part of her visit.

For the first time in a while, she felt as though...things would be okay. Not tomorrow, this week, or even in the next few weeks to come. It could take months, or even years...but –but the Inoue Orihime they had all come to love and, in most cases respect, _was_ still within the teenager's body.

Hueco Mundo and its Master hadn't completely broken her...

And who better to help her find the pieces and at least start to glue them back together than one who had, long ago, been 'broken' by the evil bastard himself?

But...was a once-broken-and-now-apparently-fixed person the right type of person to help 'fix' this delicate girl?

* * *

**A while later:**

"Taichou?"

Silence was the answer she received in return. But that had never stopped her in the past. "Taichou? _Taiiiii-chou_." She heard the sigh as clear as day.

"What is it _now_, Matsumoto?"

She smiled briefly in victory before her face turned serious.

"I know you were very young –or still unborn, I don't know- when it happened," she started slowly, fiddling with the pink scarf she was rarely seen without. "But... Well. I..."

There was another sigh.

"Spit it out, Matsumoto. I have paperwork to see to."

"What do you know about Hirako Shinji?"

* * *

**A/N**

That was awfully long wasn't it? Yikes. Anyways, this might be the last update for this for a short while. It's partly until I figure out where exactly I want to go with this, but mainly until I get at least two more chapters done for my other _Bleach_ story. (Since that's the first story I started, I'd like to get past certain events in it before returning my focus to this fic. I hope no one minds that too much...?)

Anyways, I know that there was no Urahara or Yoruichi in this chapter –but that was because I wanted to include the perspective of someone who was somewhat closer to Orihime than Urahara and Yoruichi were, without being _as_ close as, say, someone like Tatsuki. I'm not quite sure if it worked out well...but I tried.

Hope you enjoyed reading it!

Keep smiling,

Siriusgirl1


	3. Early Morning Conversations

**A/N**

Here's another chapter for this! I wasn't originally going to post this chapter up, but I did update my other fic, and felt a bit guilty about neglecting this one, so...here you go!

**Disclaimer: **It's all Kubo Tite's. Definitely not mine.

* * *

**Early Morning Conversations, and Firm Refusals**:

Sitting down on the first empty chair his still half-bleary eyes could find, he reached out and snagged the nearest bowl of rice and chopsticks that lay beside it. The conversation going on around the table was somewhat disjointed –as it always was, he had discovered, for when there were eight different people with eight completely different personalities gathered around one small table, conversations tended to be random, violent or too confusing for _any_one to understand.

Shoving small bites of the rice into his mouth, he glanced around him as he chewed.

The long haired guy, Rose, was waving his arms about rather emphatically, not seeming to care that his sunglass wearing companion wasn't paying him the least bit of attention. (He snorted at that; when would the guy realise that _no one_ listened to him?)

Kensei was doing his best to impart some form of wisdom or the other onto his younger, decidedly whinier, green haired companion, but it seemed that she was more concerned with prodding poor, amicable Hachi's moustache. (Out of the whole lot of them, he sympathised the most with Hachi; poor guy probably never wanted any of this)

He couldn't see much of Lisa's face, due to the book that was held in front of it, but he decided that he really didn't want to know any more than that. (She was a strange one, that porno-girl)

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Eat up, now! We've got work to do!"

_Ahh_, there was the little monke – pardon, there was Hiyori. The pigtailed girl was glaring at him across the table, and the threatening look in her eyes had him shovelling the food into his mouth much faster.

When he didn't hear a lazy drawl commenting on the girl's behaviour, however, he paused his actions and turned to glance at the seat the golden haired Vizard usually occupied. Much to his surprise, it was empty.

A quick glance around the kitchen showed that the Vizard was not there at all.

_Huh_?

Catching Hiyori's gaze, he put his bowl of rice down.

"Where's Hirako?"

The girl snorted.

"Why do you want to know?" she asked, challengingly.

"No reason," he muttered. "It's just...he's usually here before I get here, that's all."

The fair haired girl stared at him for a moment, before shrugging.

"He's gone out."

He raised his eyebrows at that.

"Gone out?" he echoed. Since when did the freak 'go out'? He shook his head slightly. Well, it wasn't like he wasn't _allowed_ to go out or anything... but still. What could he possibly have to _do_, to 'go out'?

And, hey, wait just a minute... what about his training? The annoying bastard had been the one training him up until now –what was he doing just 'going out' like that? He needed to get this stupid thing over and done with so he could go back home, and to his as-normal-as-it-could-be life!

"Is he not allowed to go out?" questioned Lisa, lowering her book ever so slightly in order to fix him with one of her speculative glances. "Or is there something else...?"

He shook his head.

"No, it's nothing like that," he said quickly, not really wanting to offend anyone. Not just yet, anyway. "But...well..." his eyes flicked back to Hiyori. "Do you know what time he'll get back?"

"Why do you want to know?" repeated the smaller girl, frowning.

He returned the frown.

"He's been training me, remember? And I kind of have other things to do with my life, instead of devoting it all to training..."

The swift kick he received under the table drove the sarcasm right out of his voice, replacing it with a rather feminine tone of voice.

"Don't you sass _me_, idiot! You think _we_ don't have other things to do than wake up every morning to your ugly mug?!"

He scowled at the girl.

"Well it's not like I asked _you_ to—"

"-Yeah?! Well it's not like I would've—"

"Enough, you two. It's too early in the morning for this," growled Kensei, cutting them off. He returned the glares the pair sent him –with interest. "As for your training, Kurosaki," he added, turning his attention to him, "Hiyori will take over for today. Until Shinji gets back."

The look of horror on both their faces was, ironically, not out of any form of fear of the task that lay ahead of them. Rather, it was—

"What?! _I_ have to train him? Why the _hell_ do I have to do that?! Why can't one of _you_—"

"_She's_ training me?! Do you honestly want me to get stronger or what? Why can't one of _you_—" They both stopped abruptly and turned their attention away from Kensei, choosing to glare at each other instead.

"Shut up you pathetic idiot!"

"Ladies first, baldy _brat_!"

"Why you—"

The sound of the book hitting the table cut them off this time.

"I think," started Lisa, her voice impassive, "that that is enough for now. You, finish eating. And you; it's your turn to clear the table. Once that's done, you can proceed with the training, as we had planned yesterday, when the two of you were too busy taking delight in beating the life out of each other. Or trying to, that is." She glanced evenly at the arguing pair. "Are there any more protests?"

Oh yes, it certainly looked like there were more protests –_plenty_ more- but the dark haired Vizard had been clever when she had spoken up, knowing that the substitute Shinigami was somewhat intimidated by her, even if only slightly. And she knew that her fellow Vizard didn't consciously try and cross her –they all knew what a lousy temper she had anyway, when provoked, and after the first few months of living together, had decided not to risk her unleashing said temper on them.

As she had expected, the pair nodded, although somewhat grumpily. "Good."

Crisis averted, she picked up her book once more and began reading.

* * *

"So," started the golden haired Vizard, pulling the finger out of his ear with a characteristic bored expression on his face. His companion said nothing, evidently not picking up his cue, as he chose to simply stay seated. "_Soooooo_," tried the Vizard again, only to receive the same reply.

Muttering under his breath he glared underneath his fringe at the smiling male seated opposite him. "You'd better have called me out here for a good reason, _Kisuke_," he drawled. "I don't like bein' dragged outta bed for no apparent reason..."

The ex-Captain smiled.

"Of course you don't, Hirako-san," he said. "But then again, who _does_?"

"Okay, so speak up. What do ya want?"

The shopkeeper continued to smile.

"You've been training him for a while now, haven't you?" And just like that, the golden haired Vizard's mood worsened. Honestly, he couldn't quite understand everyone's apparent fascination with the kid. He was nothing but a dull, dim-witted dingbat, if you asked him.

But of course, no one seemed to bother about asking _him_. Oh _no_, he was just Hirako Shinji after all –why would anyone be at all interested in _his_ opinion? _Feh_.

"If it's about the brat, you could've just given me a friggin' _call_, Kisuke," he grumbled, sourly. "Instead of havin' me come all the way here."

"Oh? But I thought you might like to get away from that place for a while...?" The shopkeeper chuckled amicably. "I'm sorry –I was obviously wrong in my assumptions..."

The Vizard scowled. Damn that Kisuke. Ya, he'd known the man was observant, but, _sheesh_, when had he become _this_ observant? Of him, no less.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he grumbled, waving a hand casually, as he allowed himself to fall backwards in his seated position. (And what resulted was a painful-looking pose that had him lying on the ground with his legs still crossed the way they had been when he had been sitting. But of course, he was Hirako Shinji, and the strange pose didn't affect him the slightest bit). "Mind gettin' on with it?"

Urahara nodded.

"You know what I'm going to ask you, Hirako-san," he said, sending the man a rueful smile. "And I also think that you know what_ I_ think the answer to the unasked question is."

There was a moment's silence.

"For the sake of my sanity, let's just pretend that I know no such thin', shall we?" suggested the Vizard, staring up at the ceiling above him as he cushioned the back of his head with his hands.

Shaking his head, Urahara nonetheless gave in to his companion's demand.

"Just as long as you know that this is a waste of time," he said. "So. How is the training going along, Hirako-san?"

"It's not," was the curt reply he received. Sensing the look he was being given, the Vizard rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "It's dreadful, pathetic, miserable, downright shitty, ridiculous, terrible, appalling –pick whichever one ya want."

Urahara nodded thoughtfully, having expected nothing less.

"I see."

Something about what he said caught his companion's attention, for he soon found himself on the receiving end of a raised eyebrow glance. "Hirako-san...?"

"What's with that 'I see'? Hmm?" The Vizard narrowed his eyes imperceptibly. "You plannin' somethin' or somethin'? 'Cause somethin' tells me I ain't gonna _like_ whatever it is that you're thinkin' of..."

"Now now, Hirako-san, is that really how little you think of me?"

The Vizard ignored the cheerful note in his companion's voice.

"What're you thinkin' Kisuke? Spit it out, will ya?"

The scientist sighed inwardly, before playing with the paper fan he was rarely seen without.

"Would I be correct in guessing that Kurosaki-kun's...newer form hasn't made its appearance yet?" The Vizard nodded. "Well, I think I might have some idea –and bear in mind, Hirako-san, I'm not _entirely_ sure—"

"For the love of god, Kisuke, _spit it out_. I'm _dyin'_ of boredom here, can't ya see it?"

Urahara grinned at the whining male, before sobering quickly.

"From what I've been told –by all three parties, that is- that form of his only manifested in a certain situation. A situation where, I suppose, his first and only instinct was to _protect_. Not to attack, but protect, and do anything necessary _to_ protect."

The scientist trailed off for a moment, staring at the patterned paper fan. If the Vizard wasn't as important as he was to the boy's training regime, he wouldn't even have _considered_ mentioning this to him –especially given his sudden closeness to a particularly naive individual-...but there were only so many times that he could put off Seireitei's demands on assessing the substitute Shinigami themselves.

Sometimes, they really did need to resort to desperate measures, whether they liked it or not. And he _knew_ that his fellow ex-Captain was definitely _not_ going to like this.

Judging from the ever so slight shift in his reiatsu, the scientist had a feeling that he had an idea of what he was trying to say. "So," he continued, well aware of the pair of eyes that were watching him like a hawk, "I believe that it might be at least somewhat effective, even if only to glean a brief glimpse of the newer...form and its powers, to...perhaps...create a similar scene as to the one that brought out the form in the first –"

"No."

"But Hirako-san-"

"No."

"Hirako-san, you haven't even let me fi-"

"_No_." There was a warning note in the Vizard's voice.

"But that's the only way I can think of-"

"Then you're goin' to have to think of somethin' _else_, Kisuke," cut in the Vizard, again. His face had hardened, and there was no sight of the usual lazy, mockery that was ever present on his features. "Because you're not goin' to be doin' _that_."

Urahara frowned, the cheeriness leaving him.

"Hirako-san, you do not need me to enlighten you as to the seriousness of the situation," he started, his voice lower than it usually was. "You know as well as I do what Seireitei just might end up doing to Kurosaki-kun. If he hadn't done what he had, throughout the whole winter war and everything _before_ that, they would have demanded his execution quite some time ago."

He shook his head. "We need to make sure that the boy can at least display _some_ semblance of control over the beast within him, if we are to have any hope of Seireitei allowing him to stay as he is. But to do that, we need his other form to materialise. And that hasn't happened yet." He looked to his stony-faced companion. "Don't you see, Hirako-san? Don't you see that that's the only reasonable way-"

"Oh, I _see_ alright, Kisuke," growled the Vizard, eyes still narrowed. "But I think that you're the one who's not seein' things right."

"Hi-"

"-Do you have _any_ idea what state she was in immediately after the end of the war? Do you have any idea of the state she is in _now_? No, I don't think you do, Kisuke. At all. None of you do –but then again, that's not too surprisin' is it? As long as she's not involved in anythin' that could pose a threat to us, you people don't give two hoots about her, do you?"

Urahara frowned at that.

"That's rude, Hirako-san," he said, quietly. "I have come to grow quite fond of Inoue-san-"

"And _this_ is how you express your fondness? By hopin' to put her in a threatenin' situation, just so that your favourite little specimen can reveal his other form and learn to control it before Seireitei judges him unstable and do somethin' to him?"

"Don't you think that's what Inoue-san would _want_ to do, though, Hirako-san?"

The Vizard glared at him in the silence that followed, and Urahara knew he had touched on something. "Don't you think she'd want to do anything possible, if it will ensure the wellbeing of Kurosaki-kun?" He paused. "Of _her_ Kurosaki-kun?"

The prickling of reiatsu told the scientist more than what he had wanted to know, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Not at that moment anyway.

"Don't you think the Kuchiki girl would want to do the same?" countered the Vizard. "To protect _her_ 'Ichigo'?"

Urahara nodded.

"Ah, yes, but Kurosaki-kun had his latest transformation occur when he was protecting _Inoue-san_, not Kuchiki-san."

Silence reigned in the room for a good while, as its occupants stared at each other, one looking angered while the other had an impassive expression on his face.

"You just want the kid to bring out that new form, or whatever the hell it is?" inquired the Vizard at last, tearing his eyes away from his companion. Urahara nodded.

"It's the only way we can judge things for ourselves."

The golden haired Vizard huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine."

Urahara raised his eyebrows at him. Fine? Was he...agreeing to what he had tried to suggest?

"Hirako-san?" he prodded, not quite certain that was what the Vizard had meant when he said 'fine'.

"You won't use Orihime." The scientist quietened at the look he was sent. "I'll find a way to get that form to materialise once more. Don't you worry about that, Kisuke." The look he sent the scientist was one of disdain. "I don't care how long it takes, but I _will_ do it. And until then, you're gonna leave Orihime-chan outta this."

He fixed the scientist with a piercing glance. "Ya got that? Leave her outta this."

The two locked gazes for a moment longer before the shopkeeper looked away.

"I don't know how much longer I can stall Seireitei for, Hirako-san..."

"That's not my problem," muttered the Vizard.

Urahara sighed. He may not be as acquainted with the Vizard as he was with, say, Tessai, or even Yoruichi... but he knew enough about him to know that _that was that_. The Vizard wasn't going to talk about the matter anymore, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give in to his suggestions.

Well, he supposed that this was better than nothing, however. There would certainly be more determination on the Vizard's part as he trained the substitute Shinigami, and perhaps, _perhaps_, things would work out after all.

"Very well," he said at last, adjusting the hat on his head. "I'll...allow you to do as you wish." The 'for now' wasn't uttered at the end of the statement, but they both knew that it was implied.

The golden haired Vizard nodded.

"Good." In the silence that followed, he resumed his earlier task of staring at the ceiling, before he suddenly sat up. "Is that all you wanted to discuss, Kisuke?"

Urahara nodded. "Hmm. Well then, I'd best be off." Pulling himself to his feet in one graceful movement, the Vizard nodded at the scientist. "I'll keep in touch, about the kid's progress." _Or lack thereof_. "Keep up your part of the deal, Kisuke, an' leave her outta this... Ya don't want me gettin' angry with ya now, do ya?"

The usual smirk was back on his lips as he cocked his head to stare at the ex-Captain. "Catch ya later," he called over his shoulder, as he made his way out of the room.

He didn't know why (well he did have an idea...or two) but he had to get out of the shop, and away from the scientist.

Something told him that things wouldn't end well if he didn't do so.

_Damn that freakin' brat_, he cursed in his head, scowling as an image of the orange-haired boy popped up in his mind's eye, _he doesn't have a single clue of the trouble he's causin' everyone. Damn him._

He kicked at the ground as he walked away from the shop.

_And damn that Aizen to hell an' back too. If the bastard hadn't done what he'd done..._

Shaking his head as he felt the vaguely familiar wave of anger rising in him –as it never failed to do, where anything to do with Aizen was concerned- he decided against heading back to where the others were. (Even after all these years, it still felt...odd, calling it 'home'. Where _was_ home for them anyway? Damned if he knew)

Perhaps a walk around the town would help him calm the anger within –to a certain extent, at least, so that he could come up with a plan to use against the brat, to get him to reveal his second form already.

He'd be damned if he allowed the little princess to get involved in the whole thing. She had come so far in the months since the war, even if it didn't seem like much of an improvement. He wasn't going to let all that hard work go down the drain just like that.

No sir-ee.

Hadn't she been through enough already? What more was she expected to go through, and come out unscarred?

He shook his head.

For all their apparent concern, none of the idiots close to the princess seemed to realise that, despite their best efforts, the girl _was_ scarred. Perhaps not physically, but emotionally? Hell yes.

He supposed it was normal for them to feel that way, however. Heck, if he'd been one of them, he'd have clung to the hope that she was still her same old self too.

But then again, if he was one of them, he'd still be realistic. Realistic enough to know that _no one_ could possibly remain unscarred after experiencing what the vibrant haired girl had experienced.

Maybe it was because he had been on the receiving end of the bastard's conniving, manipulative nature. Or maybe it was because he was unnaturally observant by nature (whatever good _that_ did him and the rest of his companions)... Whatever it was, he could see behind the painfully forced smiles and equally forced bizarre conversations.

The princess may not be weak ('cause he doubted if anyone 'weak' would be able to come away from the winter war in one piece with enough presence of mind to try and act her old self, even if only to reassure her friends), but that didn't mean that she wasn't fragile. Especially now.

And Kisuke actually though he'd just _let_ him put her in a situation where memories she didn't want to recall would be brought into the forefront of her mind?

It was bad enough that Seireitei still regarded her with some degree of suspicion.

_Well, no_, he thought quickly, _not _all_ of Seireitei._ For, surprising though it was, there _were_ those in the Goteijusantai who believed and _showed_ that they believed the girl to be innocent.

He wondered if things for him and his ex-Shinigami friends would've been different had the likes of Hitsugaya Toushirou, Abarai Renji, Matsumoto Rangiku and, shockingly enough, Kuchiki Byakuya, been present at the time.

_Meh, that's neither here nor there,_ he thought, shaking his head. The way he was thinkin', he'd think that he almost _missed_ his role as a Shinigami.

But he knew himself better than that.

He was happy where he was, in the living world. And although they did have their moments, their little dysfunctional 'family' was one that he wouldn't give up, not for anything.

And besides, if what had happened _hadn't_ happened...who would've been around to notice the fairy princess, and the well of hurt inside her?

_Who'd have thought,_ thought the golden haired Vizard, a grin on his face as he stepped aside to allow the old lady behind him to overtake him, _that I'd be so concerned? About a human no less!_

Oh yes, he had declared the girl his 'first love'...but as Kensei had kindly reminded them all, any pretty girl who happened to catch his eye, was given the title of his first love. (Except Hiyori, because, although she was by no means ugly, she was kinda, sorta, a bit like a sister to him, and no matter what he was –ex-Shinigami, Hollow or whatever the hell else people called him- calling a sibling-like figure your 'first love' was just..._wrong_)

But whereas Kensei thought that it was nothing but an overly flirtatious, superficial action...it wasn't. Not when it came to the grey eyed girl.

Because unlike his many previous 'first loves' (Lisa excluded, because she already _knew_ him, what with everything they'd been through), there was something about the vibrant haired schoolgirl that stood out. (And no, he wasn't talkin' about her...physical attributes. He refused to include her anatomy, in his opinions of her)

What was it about her that stood out?

She remembered his name.

He grinned down at the kid that had run into him, the grin quickly changing into a pout when he saw the boy step away slowly, eyes wide, before all but sprinting away from him. _Sheesh_.

Yeah, it sounded somewhat pathetic, but that's what it was.

Innocent little Inoue Orihime had first _really_ caught his attention, when she had remembered his name. For, throughout his existence in the human world, people either found him too eccentric and therefore unsafe to associate with, or they forgot about him quickly.

But not this girl.

The first glimpse he had gotten of her blinding smile, coupled together with the cheery greeting that was unique to her, he had immediately gleaned her innocence. And it wasn't the fake innocence that some girls might put on, in order to attract attention.

No, there was not a single manipulative thought in the cheery girl's mind, and when she had managed to slip through Hachi's barriers without any problem whatsoever...and when Hachi had mused out aloud on her powers...

Well, he couldn't think of a better person to have such powers. Such 'god-like' powers, as The Bastard had described them as.

He found it amusingly ironic that a girl named 'Orihime' had such god –or goddess...really, what was Aizen thinking? Did he think she was a _man_ or somethin'?- like powers.

She certainly had been named aptly.

It was quite—

_Ow. Ow. OW._

The golden haired Vizard took a quick step back, automatically raising a hand to the mild throbbing in his head. Thought clouded eyes clearing, he was able to refocus his gaze enough to see the lamppost right in front of him.

A minute later, he sent the vile thing a strong glare. Who the hell placed a friggin' lamppost in the middle of the pave—

Oh. _Oh_.

A sheepish expression appeared on his face as he noticed where exactly he was. Perhaps he _had_ been thinking too much, for the last time he checked, he hadn't been this close to the road.

Glancing around, he was grateful to see that not many people were paying attention to him. Not that it would've mattered, because he honestly didn't care about what they thought...but still. He'd never quite walked into a lamppost before.

_Maybe you're influencing me, Orihime-chan_, he thought with a grin, as he recalled the countless times the girl had done something similar to this. He'd even managed to see her trip over her chair as she attempted to sit down on it.

His grin widened. _Or maybe it's a sign that I should stop thinkin' so much_...

Glancing at the watch he had hastily strapped onto his hand, he saw that although it was still quite early, it was close to the time when people would be heading out of their homes, for work and school respectively.

Or more specifically, one certain fairy princess would probably be on her way to school.

He scratched his head distractedly.

Should he? Or should he not?

On the one hand, it had been a while since he had seen her... But on the other, well, it was almost as though things had come to a point where he _had_ to see her, or at least catch a glimpse of her, to be at ease.

He couldn't help but wonder at that. _What's up with _that_? I'm pretty sure that's...weird. I'm no stalker... Or am I slowly becomin' one?_

Shaking his head quickly, he decided against paying the vibrant haired girl a surprise visit. Not only could the girl use a bit of space (away from his charming self), but he had serious work to attend to.

The smirk on his lips as he turned on his heel wasn't very comforting.

_On the bright side_, he thought, as he took a quick glance around him once again, before more or less 'disappearing', _I have a free pass to beat the crap outta Ichigo... An' he can't do a single thin' about it, 'cause I'm only tryin' to help him out..._

Hmm. Maybe the day wouldn't turn out so bad after all.

* * *

**A/N**

That was, as you might have guessed, mainly focused on Shinji's thoughts –but that's only because I thought it's be nice to put in that perspective as well, as opposed to telling thing from Orihime's perspective, or someone else's. Well, I suppose I'll eventually end up doing a bit of everything, but still.

I'm not sure when I'll next update this story, but I hope it'll be some time this month!

Until then,

Keep smiling!

Siriusgirl1


	4. Friends and School

**A/N**

Though it's been a while since I last updated this fic, I have not, by any means, given up on it. I just wasn't inspired, I guess. Or perhaps I was lazy? I don't really know, which, I suppose sounds strange –if _I_ don't know, who does?

Anyways, this is sort of linked to chapter two, and the phone-call from Shinji. It was originally something that I had planned on doing, and doing it in one chapter, but as luck would have it, I was suddenly hit by the desire to flesh this particular event out a little more, which meant two –and a possible three- chapters all focusing on this particular event.

I truly need to plan things better.

Anyways, thank you all for the reviews, and I can only hope that my lack of inspiration/laziness has not turned you away from this fic.

**Disclaimer: **It all belongs to Tite Kubo. Savvy?

* * *

**Chapter Four: Friends and School**

When Inoue Orihime woke up to the sound of her ever faithful alarm clock that Friday morning, she allowed herself to lounge in bed for an additional minute or two, attempting to get her bearings.

She had had the strangest dream, she recalled with a thoughtful frown.

It had had something about bears and blue men.

Oh, and the sushi warriors! Sushi warriors who fought bravely, armed with an array of blades, ranging from kitchen knives to wakizashi.

But she couldn't for the life of her recall _what_ they were fighting for –or against, for that matter-, or what the general gist of the whole dream all had been. Which was a pity, because she was sure that it would've been interesting.

Tatsuki-chan would have enjoyed it for sure, for it had all the ingredients of a good dream.

Sighing at the missed opportunity to find a 'safe' topic to discuss with her friend –seeing how their recent conversations had been a little awkward, what with the rather large amount of secrets that she had been keeping from the martial artist- she hauled herself into a seated position on her bed, reaching out to stop her alarm.

As her eyes began their routine of scanning her small bedroom, the corners of her lips soon tugged downward when she saw nothing different about her surroundings.

Everything that she could see from her cursory glance around the room hadbeen there, in the same place, yesterday.

And the day before that, and the day before _that_…

And the days and weeks –if not months- before that, too.

Nothing had changed.

The walls were still that same shade of cream; the floorboards still the same old brown; the bookshelves were still full, with the books lined neatly according to their height; her desk was in its previous position against the far wall, although with a previously unheard of layer of dust over it for she rarely used it nowadays, choosing to do her work on the table in the living area outside.

All in all, it was all the same.

* * *

Her walk to the school had been quiet and altogether uneventful, although the vibrant haired girl did know that there had been a time –a time in the seemingly _distant_ past- when such an occurrence would have been considered rare. The smile on her lips faltered at the thought, but she quickly, painfully, banished the thought, and forced her smile to remain steady.

After all, she was used to it.

The real test, for her, was when she found herself standing outside the door that led to her classroom; the very same classroom that she would never have imagined she would be so hesitant to enter (Why should she, when everything _inside_ the classroom was, for all intents and purposes, what her world centred around?)

Banishing these thoughts as well, she did a quick check to see if the smile was still bright and present on her lips, before she slid the door open and stepped inside.

"Good morning Tatsuki-chan!"

The dark haired figure turned her gaze from the window, only to stare hard at her for a moment before nodding.

"Morning Orihime."

Forcing her smile to widen, she turned to the others, willing herself not to notice the hesitant and somewhat distant tone that had made up her friend's voice.

"Good morning, Ishida-kun!"

The bespectacled young man had an understanding look in his eyes as she turned to him, having seen the daily exchanges between her and her best friend, although that knowledge did not keep him from giving her a once-over, no doubt to assess what he could of her wellbeing.

"Good morning to you too, Inoue-san."

Feeling a flicker of gratitude somewhere underneath the mists that clouded her inside, she softened her eyes at him, hoping he would understand her meaning, before moving along.

"Good-"

She let out a quiet 'eep' when a figure rammed her side, and she didn't need to wait long for the groping hands that soon followed.

_Of course_ she knew that it was just Chizuru-chan…but she still found herself cringing and almost, _almost_ giving in to the urge to fight, to _claw_ her way out of her grasp.

"Morning, O-ri-hime-chan!" sang Chizuru, withdrawing her hands without their customary groping as had become a habit when her precious 'princess' had first started reacting jerkily to her embraces.

"Good morning Chizuru-chan," replied Orihime, hoping to make amends, as she now did every morning, with a slightly brighter smile. "I- ah, good morning Sado-kun!" She called out, hearing the door open behind her and turning so she could see the much taller male out of the corner of her eye.

Her curly haired friend nodded, eyes lingering on hers for a moment longer than they had ever done, before he ambled past her, pausing only to give her a quick pat on the shoulder. She did not mind the action, for she knew that that was his way of both assuring _her_ that things were alright, and of assuring himself that _she_ was alright.

Keigo-kun and Mizuiro-kun, it seemed, had not yet made it to the classroom, but that was alright with the vibrant haired girl, because they hadn't really changed their perception of her –or at least, she didn't feel that they had- and therefore, greeting them wasn't that much of a challenge.

The smile still plastered on her lips, she made her way over to her usual desk, by the window, mentally congratulating herself over the fact that she had paused just once when she had passed her best friend. Her seemingly unresponsive best friend.

_I'm sorry, Tatsuki-chan_, she thought ruefully, as she sat down on her seat, staring blankly at her bag for a moment before she started to pull her books and other writing implements out.

Sometimes, it felt as though this was all a dream. It felt as though she was watching through a beaded curtain as someone who looked remarkably like her slept in her room, wore her clothes, ate her food and lived her life for her.

Sometimes, it felt as though she wasn't really _there_. As though she was somewhere far, far away, and being given only a moment's respite during which she could see what her life had become.

And what she hated the most, what she hated more than anything else, was the fact that she sometimes felt as though she was back in Hueco Mundo; that she was back in her white, white, _white_ room in Las Noches, staring through the gaps of the barred window placed so high that there was no possible way she could reach it…except, instead of seeing the backwards moon through the bars, she could see the stranger who was her but, at the same time, not _quite_ her.

And she hated that feeling, because it didn't just reek of despair and pessimism and everything else that was dark and gloomy and most unwelcome in her world of sunshine and bright colours –it _was_ despair.

It was also a symbol of the death of all hope, and, more importantly, the death of all belief that she had in her friends –her precious, _precious_ friends.

And it was that, it was _that_, that hurt.

"OW! What the hell was that for, you annoying little midget? I didn't even- OWW!"

"Ohoho, oh, I'm sorry, Kurosaki-_kun_, did I hurt you?"

"Did you hurt –stop acting all innocent you little-"

"-Dear me, Kurosaki-_kun_, you seem to be rather eager to trip over your own feet today…"

"YOU PUSHED ME, YOU FREAKING-" Whatever the rather loud male had been about to stay was stopped abruptly when his companion slid open their classroom door, stepping inside with the slightly scary smile on her face.

"Good _morning_ dear classmates! It is so good to see you again this morning!"

"The hell? As if you really- _blech_-!"

"Tripping over your own feet again, Kurosaki-_kun_?"

As the dark curses continued to spill forth from the orange haired teen's mouth, Orihime gathered her previous thoughts in a firm mental grip and shoved them firmly into a chest, which she then attempted to lock, before she found herself getting distracted by the question of whether she really _could_ shove her thoughts into mentally created chests. Would they be enough to hold the thoughts in, even under lock and key? What material would they need to be made out of? Would the chest weigh heavily on her mind, the heavier the thoughts in them?

_Now's not a good time for that, _she told herself with a wry, inward smile.

"Good morning, Kurosaki-kun! Kuchiki-san!" she called out cheerily, waving a hand at the bickering duo to catch her attention, and steadfastly disallowing herself from flinching when two pairs of eyes fell upon her, both staring at her for what seemed to be years.

"Morning, Inoue," called Kuchiki-san, sending a small smile her way, even as her purple eyes unshielded themselves long enough to relay the question of '_are you alright?'_ to her. "Sleep well?"

Karakura High School's 'princess' nodded vigorously.

"Very well," she said, and it was no lie –except her friend didn't need to know that it was more because she had exhausted herself by studying into the wee hours of the morning, as opposed to actually falling into any restful sleep.

"That's good." _'Tell me if anything's wrong, okay?'_ was what her purple eyes were now saying, and Orihime nodded at her, before turning her attention to the precious orange haired male as he mumbled something that sounded like 'morning' at her.

She smiled at him despite the reproving gaze that Kuchiki-san sent him, knowing that expecting anything more from him was, really, quite unfair.

He had led the charge to hell and back (even if said hell had started out moonlit and rather _white_) just so that he could get her away from the hell she had willingly (but apparently foolishly) chosen for herself.

He had witnessed and been the cause of a lot of bloodshed on the way to his goal, and what was worse was that he had the knowledge that those he had been leading (by silent consent) had been severely wounded and mentally scarred by all that had taken place.

And as if all of _that_ hadn't been enough, he had changed into some…thing that had divested him of the smallest shred of humanity –and all that, because of her.

Because. Of. Her.

So, really, how could she ever hope for him to do more than giver her a cursory greeting, without hating herself for her ingratitude? Hadn't he done enough for her? Hadn't he _become_ enough?

"-noue. _Inoue_."

Snapping out of her none too pleasant musings, she saw, with a start, that the object of her affect… of her _thoughts_, was now standing considerably closer than he had been before, _and_ that he was looking at her with a strange look in his eyes.

A strange look which she was quick to recognize as one of concern.

"Kurosaki-kun?" she queried, tilting her head to the side. The substitute Shinigami –who, really, should be a hero…no, who _would_ be a hero amongst Shinigami children in the future, should the Goteijusantai decide that it wouldn't hurt their pride to reveal his part in the Winter war that hadn't really taken place in the winter- observed her for a moment longer, just as two others had done before him, before shrugging and turning his eyes away.

"You…zoned out."

"Oh." There was a pause. "Sorry."

Had she really been that obvious? Whatever had happened to her resolution of not giving them the slightest fraction of a millisecond to wonder if she was alright? Was she slipping up? Would she have to reinforce her act of-

"What were you thinking of?"

She blinked, taking a reluctant moment to clear her thoughts and focus on Kuchiki-san, who was looking at her.

"Eh?"

"What were you thinking of?"

She wondered if it was just her, of if her friends seemed to be waiting for something, as though they were anticipating something that would either make their concern dissipate, or –heaven forbid- increase it.

_Kurosaki-kun, _she mentally answered, _I was thinking of Kurosaki-kun, and what I made him do._

But, no, Kuchiki-san was still looking at her, and she was allowing her mind to wander a bit too much.

"Inoue-san?"

Ishida-kun _was_ really good at keeping the concern out of his kind voice…but that really wasn't the best time to think about it.

"I was thinking of…" her voice trailed off as her brows furrowed. _What to say, what to say…?_ "I was thinking of the extra assignments that Ochi-sensei gave me last week," she said at last, cheaply flashing a bright smile across the room while inwardly wondering if she was reducing its worth with each fake attempt she made at it.

Something flickered in Kuchiki-san's purple eyes, something that made Orihime think that she had, somehow, given them the wrong answer –if there _was_ such a thing as a wrong answer. "A-and…I was …I was wondering if the blue men ever decided that they wanted to have children," was what she blurted out when she opened her mouth to say something, _any_thing, in an attempt to dispel the strange mood that had fallen upon her friends.

She must have said the right thing this time though, for the mood –whatever it had been- vanished, and it seemed to her as though her friends were almost relieved. Although there was something in Kuchiki-san's eyes that told her she wasn't quite convinced.

Unnerved by those wise, experienced eyes, Orihime smiled once more before turning her attention to her book bag, continuing her earlier task of unloading what was inside it.

Conversation picked up around her as more students entered the room, and she was relieved at the chatter.

_That_ had certainly been a close call. It looked as though she had to work on being more convincing of the fact that she _was_ alright. It was what her friends needed to believe right now, and she was going to do everything that she could to _make_ them believe that.

"-they say anything about it? Urahara won't say a word, so they're the only ones who can give you answers."

"You think I don't know that? I do! It's just…annoying. It's like they're…like they're _trying_ to kill me."

"Don't be stupid. They're only trying to help."

"Are you sure about that?"

Snippets of her friends' conversation reached her ears, and she unwittingly tilted her head to the side, wondering what was going on. She had heard Kuchiki-san mention Urahara-san's name, and that by itself had her wondering if everything was alright. Although she doubted if they would tell her if something truly was going on.

"-only ones who can! So you're just going to have to suck it up and _deal_ with it, you pathetic excuse for a-"

"-You don't understand. The others…well, the others are alright. No, not alright, but they're the same as they were before –I can tell." There was a pause. "But _him_ –there's something off about him. When he finally decided to turn up the other day, he just started to beat the crap out of me, like he had some kinda grudge against me; like I had kicked a puppy or something." There was another pause. "I'm telling you, Rukia, there's something off with him. He's changed."

"Yeah, well, war can do that to you."

"Pfft, like he hasn't seen enough of wars in his-"

Whatever else the orange haired teen had been about to say was stopped when the door was opened once more as Ochi-sensei entered the room, a no-nonsense expression on her face as she slammed her books down on her table, by the whiteboard.

Orihime's brows were furrowed ever so slightly, even as she listened to the teacher describe what exactly she would do to anyone who tried to 'mess with her' today –with a particularly hard stare in the direction of one Kurosaki Ichigo.

Her friends' conversation had made little sense, and though it worried her that something might be going on, something that she knew nothing about, she eventually told herself that it was for the best.

After all, the less she knew of such matters, less was the possibility of her stupidly getting involved.

Taking a quick, deep breath, she forced all other thoughts out of her mind, and concentrated on Ochi-sensei instead.

* * *

When the bell signalling the end of school rang, Orihime gave a start. If there was one thing that didn't seem to change, it was her ability to zone out at various times during the day.

Another school day over before she knew it.

As she slid the books into her bag, she wondered about her plans for the rest of the day. If she remembered correctly, it was a Friday, which meant that there were no more classes until Monday.

_Two days off, _she mused, a thoughtful expression overtaking her face, _Two whole days. What should I do?_

She supposed that it would do her good to make use of the ample time and go over her schoolwork again –when she had finished completing the last of the make up work that Ochi-sensei had assigned to her, of course. After all, if she wanted to at least try and get back her previous position in the class rankings, she'd have to put in quite a bit of effort.

_So, I guess I'll be studying, _she thought, making her way towards the classroom door, _and I will probably need to do a bit of shopping…_ _And maybe I'll go out and buy myself some of that instant hot chocolate mix. It _is_ getting colder now, so it would be handy to have—_

Her eyes widened suddenly. Hot chocolate –why did she get the feeling that there was something about it that she was missing?

"Inoue?"

Stifling a startled gasp at the voice that sounded too close for comfort, she whirled around, only to meet the calm, steady gaze of Kuchiki Rukia.

"Kuchiki-san?" she inquired, once she was sure she had her breathing under control. It wouldn't do to worry them again after all, which they would do if they were to see that she was still uncomfortable and almost always expecting something to happen.

"We're planning on meeting up some time this evening, probably for coffee or something-"

"-Or dinner, even," added Chizuru, coming up behind Rukia. Orihime stared at them for a moment, not fully aware of the four other pairs of eyes that were fixed on her.

Coffee and maybe dinner, huh?

_Well, _she thought, _it would be nice_. She frowned inwardly. _But I might end up worrying them even more than they are already._

After all, who was to say that she would be able to keep her smiling mask on for so long?

But if she didn't go, they would worry even more.

With a smile on her face, she shook her head at her purple eyed classmate, deciding to hurriedly decline the impossibly kind invitation – especially after everything that they had faced, because of her!- and then to quickly make her way out of the classroom before they could attempt to change her mind.

"Sorry, Kuchiki-san, Chizuru-chan," she said, "I don't think I'll be able to make it."

"Why?"

"Because…" _I don't want to worry you, I don't deserve to be your friend, I'm not really that good a person for you to waste your time fussing over, _"I'm…well, I'm actually tired." Her smile widened as she scratched the back of her head, "I guess I really should stop studying into the early hours of the morning, you know?"

She didn't want to look closely at her friend's face, not entirely sure that she wanted to correctly decipher the emotion she saw there. "Thank you, though. I hope you…I hope you all have fun." She clutched her bag in a firmer grip, "See you all on Monday!"

With that, she spun on her heel and all but ran out of the classroom, pausing only to slide the door shut behind her.

_I'm sorry, everyone._

* * *

**A/N**

For a change, I'm submitting the next chapter at the same time as this one, so...there's more to read!

Siriusgirl1


	5. A Not So Surprising Visitor

**A/N**

And here's chapter five! This was all originally meant to fit into chapter four, but I sort of wanted to flesh out this particular interaction between Orihime and Shinji, so I ended up writing too much to fit into one chapter. Hence the division into _two_.

Ah well.

**Disclaimer: **Would anyone really think that _I_ created everything that '_Bleach'_ is about? [crickets chirping] Yeah. Didn't think so.

* * *

**Chapter Five: A Not So Surprising Visitor**

When the evening rolled by, it found Orihime seated on her bed, staring at the neatly organised bookshelf at the other end of her room. Something about it irked her. It wasn't that she didn't like the books, or the bookcase itself –definitely not; it was more the fact that it was…well, that it was too _neat_.

And when that registered in her head, she found herself confused.

Since when had she started to complain when things were neat? For as long as she could remember, she actually liked it when things were organised, and neat –it was one trait that she shared with Ishida-kun, although, perhaps, she was not as picky about it as she knew he was.

Sighing as her thoughts began to wander once again, she brushed a hand through her hair before setting her shoulders and standing up. She had work that she needed to do, and sitting around staring at a perfectly _fine_ bookcase, positioned _exactly _where it should be, wasn't going to help her. That didn't stop her from glancing back at the bookcase before she left her room, shutting the door with a bit too much of force, but not really noticing it.

* * *

She had only just taken another look at the fourth question of the History assignment she was having trouble with, when the doorbell rang, startling her so much that she jumped. She turned her head to the door, brows furrowed as she wondered who it could be. She never usually had visitors, especially not at this hour in the evening.

Unless… unless it was Rangiku-san, on one of her usual visits.

But the 10th Division's Vice-captain hadn't said that she'd be visiting, so…

Brought out of her thoughts when the doorbell rang again, she quickly pulled herself to her feet, before striding towards the door. There was a time when she had been able to simply open the door, with a welcoming smile on her face, but experience had taught her that, sometimes, it paid to be cautious.

With that in mind, she stood on her doors as she squinted through the peephole that was a bit too high for her, and—

_Eh?_

Thoroughly surprised, she moved back and unbolted the extra lock she had fixed on the door (not that it would have been able to prevent anyone...inhuman from entering her apartment without her consent anyway), before swiftly turning the key and sliding out the security chain.

When the door was finally opened, the first thing that she saw was the impossibly wide grin and the white teeth that it revealed, before her eyes lifted to meet the familiar gaze.

"Hirako-kun?"

The grin widened –if such a thing was possible- as the blond tilted his head to a side.

"Nice to see you haven't forgotten me, Orihime-chan," he declared, winking at her. "How've you been?"

There was a brief pause as she blinked up at him.

"Um…good, thank you," she said, "And you?"

"Meh." He waved his hand casually. "Life could've been better –but hey, life's always been pretty shit for me, so it's no biggie." The grin was back. "Besides, things sure are looking up now…"

The smirk on his lips told her that she had been unsuccessful at turning away quickly enough before he caught sight of her flushed cheeks. "Now, now, there's no need to be so shy."

"I'm not shy…" she mumbled, although she didn't quite believe in the statement herself.

"Yeaaaaah, suuuuuure you're not," drawled Hirako Shinji, smirk still on his lips. "So, tell me, Orihime-chan…" he moved a little closer, and her brows furrowed as she looked up at him. "Did ya miss me?"

Grey eyes looked away, focusing on some point behind the taller man's head.

"I… I didn't hear anything from you, so I thought you might be busy," was what she said, not quite knowing how to respond to such a question, even after being on friendly terms with the Vizard for a while now. It was still sometimes difficult to tell if he was just fooling around or if he wanted a serious answer.

"You okay, Orihime-chan?"

"Yes." The nod was an automatic one, and her eyes were still fixed on something or the other behind him.

"Riiiiiiiight, and I'm not good looking at all," drawled the golden haired Vizard, unable to stop from grinning when he saw the confused expression on the girl's face. "Meh, never mind tha', Orihime-chan." He waved a hand casually. "So? What's gotten you all down an' mopey?"

She hesitated, and the moment she realised that was what she was doing, she knew that it was the wrong thing to do. For she had come to realise that the man in her doorway was quite observant.

Fooling her friends was one thing, but attempting to fool him required a bit more effort -and she was far too tired that evening to put in such an effort.

"It's nothing, Hirako-kun," she said, eyes still averted. "I just…I'm just…tired. I've been studying a lot. And…and things have just been –I mean, I'm just… it's just…"

The fingers that slid under her chin brought an abrupt halt to her words, and she had no other choice but to look at him.

"I'm pretty sure people have told you tha' you're a terrible liar, Orihime-chan," commented the Vizard, shaking his head with his lips quirked in a smile. "But it's alrigh' –I ain't the type of person who goes around poking my nose in other people's businesses."

She stared at him, grateful beyond words for the fact that he wasn't going to press her to tell him what had happened, even though she knew that, throughout the course of however long he was able to keep her company for, she would eventually end up telling him what it was. It was strange, the way she confided in him, sometimes even without realising that that was what she was doing.

He gave a light, playful pinch to her chin, "You said you're tired? Well, we have the perfect remedy for that." She blinked up at him, bemused. "Hot chocolate." Seeing the blank expression on her face, he quirked an eyebrow at her. "Hot chocolate –remember? The last time we spoke on the phone, we-"

"_Oh_!" Her eyes had widened. "I _knew_ there was something I had forgotten." How _could_ she have forgotten the plans they had made when he had called her the other day, when Rangiku-san had been present?

It was rather careless of her, really.

"Forgotten?"

"Ah –did I say forgotten? N-No, I didn't mean _forgotten_," she stammered hurriedly, "I just…it sort of slipped my mind –but only because I was concentrating hard on tests and all of that make up work that Ochi-sensei gave me. It doesn't mean that I had forgotten about our plan, or anything like that –really, Hirako-kun, I—"

"Orihime-chan."

"-I think it's a good idea to go and-"

"Orihime-chan?"

"-have some hot chocolate. It is quite cold isn't it? And besides, it'll be nice to-"

"Orihime-chan!"

"-Y...Yes?" she gasped, out of breath.

"Breathe, princess. We don't want you to keel over, dead, do we?" With his hands now on her shoulders, acting the part of an anchor of sorts, she did just as he said, drawing in quick, rather shallow breaths of air until her racing heartbeat had slowed down slightly, and until she was able to use her voice again without feeling as though she was suffocating.

"S...Sorry, Hirako-kun," she said, a little weakly. "I just-" His hands squeezed her shoulders lightly, drawing her attention to him and the grin that was on his lips.

"Don't worry abou' it, Orihime-chan," he said, "As I said, it wouldn't do for ya to keel over and die. Not after everythin' that's happened, ya know?"

A distant expression worked its way onto her face at his words, and she nodded, giving him a saddened smile.

"You're right," she said slowly, "Kurosaki-kun, Kuchiki-san, Ishida-kun, Sado-kun and everyone else have sacrificed enough as it is, for my sake. It would be ungrateful of me to not take care of myself after that, wouldn't it?"

She noticed the thin glint that sparked to light in Shinji's sometimes puzzling, yet other times dancing eyes, but didn't quite know what to make of it.

"Yeah, sure, for their sakes," he muttered, "But also for the sake of a rather selfish, dashing example o' the male species..." She raised her eyebrows at him in confusion, causing him to send her a rueful grin before waving a hand dismissively. "Never you mind, princess." His hands left her shoulders. "How abou' we get movin'? Time's a-wastin' after all."

She hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she glanced over his shoulder and took in the darker skies outside. It was getting quite late, and she knew that walking around at such an hour could, at times, be dangerous –especially when it came to not knowing _who_ –or what- you could run into while outside.

"But...isn't it a bit late, Hirako-kun?" she asked at last, not noticing the thoughtful glance he sent her before he shrugged casually.

"The usual place is opened until late, remember?"

She worried her lower lip with her teeth, her brows furrowed, once again not noticing his gaze on her.

"There could be..." she paused, "We don't know who-"

"Or what we might run into?" finished the blond, tilting his head to a side as she nodded. He observed her for a moment longer before leaning towards her once more, well aware that he was breaching her personal space, but equally well aware –and well versed in this particular girl's body language- that she would move away if she was unbearably discomfited. "Don't you know who I am, princess?" he drawled into her ear. "I'm Hirako Shinji, the most awesome person –or creature- alive, yeah?"

He leaned back, inwardly pleased at the red tinge that had spread across her face; not because he enjoyed seeing her so flustered –well, no, that was a lie because he _did_ enjoy it- but because it added some form of colour to her face, making her look less like she'd never been exposed to sunlight in her life, and more...alive.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he carefully turned her around, pushing her inside her own apartment and following her until he came to a halt before the hallway closet he had noticed she kept her warmest coats in. Nudging her aside gently, he opened the closet, yanking out the first jacket he saw, before holding it out to her.

"...Eh?" She stared down at the jacket being held out to her before looking back up at him. "Just like that? Like," she gestured towards her attire, "this?" He quirked an eyebrow at her as he took in what she was wearing; an oversized white t-shirt and faded grey jeans, both looking much more like old and preferred comfort wear than anything particularly dressy.

"What's wrong with tha'?" he asked.

"But...but it's..."

"You look jus' _fine_, princess, don't you worry about that. Ever." He held the jacket out to her again. "C'mon now, the sooner we get there, the less time we'll need to spend in the cold."

Shaking her head –not out of exasperation, but rather something similar to...fondness...?- she shrugged on the jacket, zipping it up as high as it could go, before turning and taking the hand...no, the elbow, that was offered to her.

"Are you sure you don't have anything else to be doing, Hirako-kun?" Her eyes widened the moment the words left her mouth, "Ah, not that I don't want you here, or anything like that, but I just thought that you'd be a busy man, and so you wouldn't..." she trailed off when she saw the amusement on his face. "...I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

He nodded with a chuckle.

"But that's alrigh' –that's jus' who Orihime-chan is, and we wouldn't want tha' changed for the world." Taking advantage of the bemused and slightly flustered state she seemed to be in, he guided her back to the door, snagging and pocketing her keys from the desk in the hallway.

Making sure to lock the door behind them, they resumed their walk, as he led her towards the coffee shop that was conveniently only a few blocks away. "Don't ya worry abou' a thing, Orihime-chan," he said cheerily as he saw her look furtively around them, as though expecting some manner of hideous creature –or human, same difference really- to pop out of the darkness, "I'll protect ya'."

_I'll protect you, from anythin' you're afraid of. ...But I can't protect you from yourself –that's somethin' you've gotta do yourself, no matter how hard I try._

* * *

**A/N**

And the next chapter will probably be posted in two weeks or so, because I've got to focus on my other _Bleach_ story, and then there's the matter of assignments and the like. I seriously wish there was more fiction or art –or _both_, even- on these two, because they would be oh-so-interesting together!

Anyways, hope you liked the double-update.

Till next time,

Siriusgirl1


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